


Reassignment

by eccentric_kittens



Category: Good Omens (TV), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, Crossover, Cute, Drabble Collection, Fluff, M/M, Random & Short
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-08
Updated: 2019-08-13
Packaged: 2020-08-13 06:36:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 1,853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20169769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eccentric_kittens/pseuds/eccentric_kittens
Summary: Let's say heaven and hell basically decided these two are all but excommunicated. They're demoted to volunteering in a school of witchcraft and wizardry.How would that turn out?Inspired by a rant I did on fb tbh





	1. Marketing

Aziraphale wanted to stop at every single shop for approximately ten seconds before miracling an instantaneous transaction of whatever he wanted for the right amount of wizarding money. Crowley, on the other hand, wanted to savour each little shop like a flute of fine champagne. Wanted to have a little nosy down every aisle, appreciate the craftsman ship of every sauce and seasoning. Hogwarts' local food market was simply not ready for an angel with a taste for just about everything to whip right through them, dragging a demon with a penchant for appreciating with his eyes only along with him.

Crowley hadn't often seen Aziraphale 'in his element', so to speak. At rare book dealing events and concerts of old men playing old instruments, sure, of course. But never. Never was Aziraphale more in his element than at any kind of non-standard food market. Hell, more than once Crowley had chosen to take him to some Peruvian or Chinese markets for him to sample some of the most unusual and sought after ingredients. White truffles had been the centrepiece of more than one anniversary. So, even if it pained him not to be able to linger and take it all in slowly, he was happy for the hand refusing to leave his wrist.

"Crowley! Look!"

It didn't matter what it was, really. Probably some rare fruit or particularly pungent cheese. Crowley would smile, nod, say his usual piece;

"Anything for you, Angel."

\---

Crowley would try to visit the market several times during the school year. Most times Aziraphale would insist on accompanying him, would promise not to hurry Crowley along. You can probably guess with very little effort what happened.

The one time Crowley managed to have Aziraphale distracted, he came home to a tapping foot, a haughty look and:

"Don't lie, Dear, I can smell the turmeric."


	2. Cuddles

Crowley had rarely felt at home in snake form since he'd been in the Garden. People stepped on his tail. Threw rocks at him. Screamed and pulled their children away. Logical reaction really, he understood. Who in their right mind sees a snake and doesn't immediately protect their child, right? Still. Cold blooded, yeah. Thick skinned? Not as much as he pretended. It wasn't like he wanted the red carpet rolled out. But Crowley couldn't help but see cats getting fawned over and feel a little jealous.

Flash forward to his wonderful new job, teaching Defence Against the Dark Arts to wonderful children. Especially the Slytherin bunch. They showed absolutely no fear. Whether it was because the snake had a natural affinity with them, their upbringing around magical creatures or just a certain way with dark beasts, the children of Slytherin in particular treated Crowley in snake form like a community pet. He got treats, belly rubs. Someone even knitted him a long sock-like jumper for the winter months.

So everyone really shit themselves at the end of first year when Cuddles the snake slithered into the Great Hall and slouched into a seat beside his husband as Crowley the bloody DADA teacher. 


	3. Howler

"What lesson've we got next?"

"Uh...Care of Magical Creatures and then Dark Arts after lunch."

"Them two bloody nutcases? They drive me mum mad. She sends them a howler every other week, it's embarrassing at this point."

"Howlers? What for? Just cause they're...y'know?"

"Oh no, she couldn't give a toss about that. She just thinks teachers should have qualifications. Just last week Mr Crowley forgot we even need wands...again. And Mr Fell keeps forgetting we have no bloody clue what all that muggle stuff is about."

"Thats true. My Dad says we shouldn't be hearing about all that. Separation of magic and muggle and all that. I mean, really. Electricity and toasters and whatever a creme brulee is. He'd pitch a fit if he knew Mr Fell'd been talking about that stuff."

"Well that's nothing to send a Howler over. An article in the Daily Prophet maybe, but it's a bit of an overreaction."

"Mr Crowley's the real troublemaker in Mum's eyes to be fair. She reckons he's a real bad influence."

"You What? He mostly sleeps through lessons unless it's a practical rather than theory. What's so bad about him?"

"Well it's all that stuff in the news about him being a demon isn't it? Who knows what he's capable of."

"Point is, your mum's a bloody fool. I mean let's face it, the school's never gonna get rid of them two. The biggest incident they've had all year was when Mr Crowley incited a food fight and Mr Fell got right snippy with us all. No way is McGonagall giving them the boot. It'd take a murder at least for her to even consider it."

"When you think about it, wouldn't you rather be in Dark Arts than any other class? Flitwick, Hagrid and the rest. They're alright, but you can't have a laugh with them. You can't go to them with questions and stuff."

"True. Mum'll calm down eventually when she realises the closest thing to evil Mr Crowley's done is let loose all the spiders cause he felt bad for them."

"Don't bring that up, I've not slept for weeks. You'll spoilt lunch."

"Ooh, I know what I'm having."

"What?"

"Whatever a creme brulee is."


	4. Chapter 4

“You done?”

“Yeah, hang about. One...more...there! Right, let’s swap.”

Aziraphale had strong-armed (read: begged and begged and begged) Crowley into planning his fair share of lesson plans for the semester coming up. They’re sat together over hot chocolate and biscuits all morning, writing away. 

“Wonderful aren’t they?” Aziraphale said, twirling his quill. “I love them.”

Crowley gave him a look of withering patience. “We wrote with these for centuries, angel. We wrote before they were even invented.”

Aziraphale tutted. “Yes, but I’ve gotten so used to ballpoint and fountain. There’s just nothing quite like a well of ink and a nice thick feather.”

“It better be nice and thick, I just moulted. Spent all winter growing those feathers. Are we swapping or what?”

“Hm? Oh, right, yes. Here you are then.”

They began reading each other’s lists. Their faces slowly scrunched into twin frowns, with recurring eye rolls and a hint of disgust. 

“There’s absolutely no way we’re teaching them that on the first day.”

“I was about to say the same thing. Are we raising a class of idiots?”

“How many times, we aren’t ‘raising’ anyone. They aren’t ours. Bloody hell.”

“...They might as well be.”


	5. Chapter 5

“Hey up. Who’s that?”

A student coming back from detention was met with about 20 pairs of owlish eyes staring back at him, all looking like they’d been caught doing something they shouldn’t.

“N - nothing, Arnold. Just - uh -”

“This teacher is lost,” someone spoke up, a first-year who’s name Arnold didn’t know yet.

A blonde, rather stuffy looking fellow was grinning stupidly at him from the centre of the crowd. 

“Uh, yes, indeed,” he began, his accent that of a posh, londoner-type. “I’m the new - or well - one of the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teachers and - well, I rather thought I should pop over to each house. Get to know a few people, you see.”

Arnold decided quickly that this was someone best kept in good favour. He seemed the sort to let you off easy if you gave the right excuse, give you extra points if you smarmed the right way in class. Arnold was a Hufflepuff through and through. But for all that he was a genuinely nice person, that didn’t mean he didn’t know how to wield that niceness like a scalpel to get what he wanted.

“Ah. Professor Fell, isn’t it? Yes, I’ve heard there’s two teachers this year. Well, I’m Head Boy for Hufflepuff, so if there’s anything you need I’m always available. Would you like a tour?”

“Actually, I’m making it my mission to learn a few names. There’s so very many of you and I’m afraid I’ve already forgotton - it’s Archie, right?”

“Arnold.”

“Right, sorry. Let’s see, who else was there - there was a Bryan, right? Yes?”

Students around Fell began speaking up, reminding him of their names, more than one also providing helpful ways to remember names. Arnold watched him nod politely and make a faint, unconscious writing gesture with his hands as if he were writing them down. Arnold noticed more than one of the students were holding familiar tinfoiled parcels and guessed what they were really up to.

“Alright, everyone, I really appreciate the warm welcome - Arnold, lovely meeting you. I should be getting off. 

Other Houses to visit, you understand.”

Arnold smiled suddenly. “Oh, Professor, before you go - here.”

He handed him a small plastic box, with a tinfoiled cake inside. 

“Brownies.”

Professor Fell lit up. “Oh? I love brownies. Who made them?”

A slight hush fell over the crowd. Everyone knew what was going on, no one quite had the wherewithal to speak up. 

Arnold’s smile widened. “Oh, one of the boys upstairs has a wicked spell for brownies. Just wonderful.”

“Alright, well thanks ever so much,” Fell said, on his way out. “Lovely meeting you all.”

Arnold watched him leave. Idiot.

\---

Aziraphale bumped into Crowley just as he was leaving Hufflepuff’s House. 

“There you are. I thought we said we’d meet at that funny looking statue? Waited there for an hour and you never showed,” Crowley complained. 

He glanced around the hallway and immediately snuck a quick kiss on Aziraphale’s cheek. 

“Sorry, dear, I completely forgot,” Aziraphale said, squeezing Crowley’s arm. “But I do have a good excuse this time - one of the other Professors suggested I visit each House, get to know the students a bit. It’s been alright - look, they even gave me some brownies.”

Crowley gave a muted ‘ooh’, which quickly levelled out into an ‘oh’ as soon as Aziraphale popped the lid. 

“Don’t eat those, angel.”

“What? Why ever not? They said they baked them themselves.”

Crowley grinned, portalling the brownies to his desk drawer. “Yeah, exactly. They’re, uh, strong. You wouldn’t like them.”

It took a second for Aziraphale to catch up, then getting extremely embarrassed. “Really! And after I was so polite to them! And after hearing that they were the nicest of the bunch, well I had higher expectations if I’m honest. That kind of chicanery.”

“Are you gonna expel them?” Crowley asked, amused. “Tell their Mothers they’ve been spiking teachers?”

Aziraphale deflated a little. “That’s a bit far, isn’t it? I mean I know they get all up in arms about it these days, but it wasn’t long ago that everyone was smoking a bit of that, was it? No. Besides, it’s a bit bad isn’t it, my first week here and I expel the nice ones for a bit of - of revelry?”

Crowley shrugged. “I’d expel them. What if it’s something nastier next time?”

Aziraphale took his hand and started walking. “Well, you’ll just have to be my food-sniffer and I’ll be right as rain.”

Crowley smirked. “Not bloody likely. Where are we going?”

“I think we have an appointment at the statue, do we not?”

**Author's Note:**

> If u have prompts, I welcome them <3
> 
> got questions, suggestions, requests?
> 
> jupiterfeels@gmail.com


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